Star Crossed

Chapter 2: Liquor

Hawk

This week had been crazy. For some reason I couldn't stop thinking about the guy I met in the school's courtyard. He didn't end up telling me his name, and I didn't see him anywhere around the school either.

I had spent the last two years in Los Angeles due to my music career. My manager had been pretty upset when I said I wanted to go back to high school for my senior year, but they understood after a while. The rest of my band have already graduated from high school, or dropped out. I had been taking online classes, even though I'm failing most of them from practicing and being on the road so much.

My best friend, Melanie, invited me over tonight for her party. It's a Saturday, so I figured I'd go. She's most likely going to make perform there, so I'm going to dress at least half-decent. I slip on a pair of black ripped jeans, a black tank top, and a maroon leather jacket. I use some gel to fix my hair better, making it perfectly spiked.

"Yo, Hawk! You home?" I hear my other best friend, Mason, yell from downstairs. I grab my phone, put it into my back pocket. Neither of my parents are home, they went out on a date, even though it's my first weekend back home in the last five months.

"I'll be down in a bit!" I shout back to him, "Grab any alcohol from my parents' liquor cabinet you want!" I walk down the large staircase to the kitchen where I find Mason thoroughly raiding my parents' liquor stash.

"You know there'll be alcohol there, you don't need to bring all of it." He just scoffs, and continues shoving bottles of whiskey and tequila into a bag. I don't drink too often, mostly 'cause the only time I would want to would be when I'm out with the band, but since I'm underage they don't let me drink unless it's at a house party. Honestly sometimes my bandmates can act like real adults, which fucking sucks.

"Dude!" I shout to Mason. He turns and looks at me with a look that says 'what?'.

"Don't take all of it, some of those bottles are more than $500," I explain. At that his eyes go wide, and then he guiltily puts a few of them back. I laugh at this. Mason can be kind of dumb sometimes. Unlike mine and Melanie's families, Mason's family is the only normal one. He's the second oldest of five kids, with an older sister who's 19 (Amber), boy twins who are 15 (Jack and Carter), and then his little sister who's 12 (Brooke). All of his family looks alike. They all have the same soft dark brown hair, and most of them have brown eyes (with the exception of Mason and his younger sister who have green eyes). They live in the suburbs just outside of town.

Mason's pretty tall, being roughly six-feet. He has a stronger build than me, but he's not buff. He likes anime, video games, and well...liquor. Not in the sense that he gets drunk a lot, but in the sense that he likes to learn about different types of booze and like how they effect people. Oh, and he dresses like he's either homeless or loves to camp in the wilderness.

Melanie on the other hand is quite different from him. She's petite, only being about five-two. Her family's rich to say the least. She has bright orange hair, one of her eyes is brown and the other is grey, and she likes to dress a mixture of comfy and cute. Melanie loves to bake, she wants to be a pastry chef when she graduates. Melanie has an older brother who's 25, and even though there's a large age gap between the two, they get along well.

I guess here would be a good place to explain my life a little bit. Well...I'm an only child. I was adopted. I'm the lead guitarist and vocalist in the band Lose Control. I've been singing since I was six years old. Most people would say I dress like an 'e-boy', but I would say I dress like myself. I wear mostly black. People call be Hawk because of my mohawk (which I've hand since I was nine). I like music, obviously. I lived in Los Angeles for two years when my band took off. My aunt lives there, so that's the only reason my parents allowed me to live there. My parents are pretty rich, with my Mom being a neurosurgeon and my Dad being a lawyer.

"Come on, let's go," I say, tying my black combat boots up. Mason nods, then follow me outside to where his Dad's car is parked. I slide into the passenger seat of the car, buckling my seat belt then changing the radio station. I don't care that the ride's less than fifteen minutes, I like my music the way I like it.

The engine purrs softly, and then we're off.